


There are many things that I would like to say to you

by Alyss_asleep



Series: Falling [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 80’s references, 90s references, All The Tropes, Anxiety, Boys In Love, Chris and Thomas for beautiful soft and angsty boys, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Flash Dance, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, How to confess your love to your best friend, Implied Sexual Content, Instagram Stalking, Katsuki Yuri is a protective momma bear, Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky Friendship, M/M, Married Couple, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Otabek Altin & Leo De la Iglesia friendship, Pining, Smashing Pumpkins - Freeform, Soft Boys, Song Lyrics, Teen Angst, Victor Nikiforov & Otabek Altin - Freeform, Yuri P thinks Victor is an old man, Yuri Plisetsky & Katsuki Yuri are bros, Yuri Plisetsky is bad at feelings, Yuri Plisetsky loves Otabek Altin, awkward Otabek, otayuri - Freeform, victor and yuri are married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 08:29:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17639336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyss_asleep/pseuds/Alyss_asleep
Summary: Yuri is crushing hard on Otabek but can’t find the words to tell him.He finds inspiration in an unlikely place, with a little bit of help from his friends.





	1. Chapter 1

Yuri lounged lazily across the love birds’ couch. Long elegant legs bent up and over the backrest whilst his shoulder length blond locks spilled messily off the seat and dangled down toward the floor.

He was bored! Victor and Katsu had tricked him into spending time with them again; Yuri offering a video game marathon and Victor promising piroshki. Several hours in and Katsudon had abandoned him to answer a Skype call with his family and the old man was fiddling with his ancient hi-fi. Who had physical copies of their music collection anymore!? It’s like they didn’t know streaming existed.

He watched, upside down, as Victor flipped through an endless collection of discs, humming absently as he looked. Yuri sighed and turned his attention to his phone. Opening Instagram, he flicked to his best friend’s profile. He doubted Beka had posted anything new, he was almost as much of a dinosaur as Victor when it came to his phone. Regardless, Yuri couldn’t ignore the draw of his friend’s profile. 

Though he loved to take pictures, Beka rarely posted images of himself. Quiet and keenly observant, he captured things that others failed to notice; the way a beam of light intersected a patch of shadow, an unusual door knob, peeling paint on an old door. If he didn’t know better, Yuri would have accused him of being sucked into a hipster aesthetic but, Otabek just saw things his own way. His values were different from those of their contemporaries and Yuri found him more and more fascinating with each new discovery. 

He scrolled down Beka’s photos until he located the one he wanted. It was the only selfie on his account and it was there because Yuri had badgered him to post it. ‘Stop being a pretentious fuck Beka,’ he had teased a few weeks earlier, ‘accept the narcissistic tendencies of our entire generation.’ The act had been selfless, a bid to encourage Beka to interact more effectively with his fans - It had fucking nothing to do with the fact that Yuri missed his ridiculously beautiful face.

It was taken in a moment of quiet; Otabek reclining on his bed, hair untamed and eyes intense. Half of his face was in shadow and, all but a vague outline, hidden. A shaft of early morning light illuminated the other side casting a golden glow to his skin. The contrast was stark and highlighted the sharp lines of Beka’s jaw and cheek bones. His eyes squinted into the sun, crinkling the skin around the edges and causing Yuri’s heart to flutter. Otabek was striking and natural at the same time and Yuri dreamt of waking up next to him like this; sleepy, rumpled and handsome. Beautiful in his realism; bare, honest, perfect.

Yuri wasn’t sure when he fell in love with his best friend. It crept up on him while he was looking the other way - focus firmly attuned to skating. It was getting harder to ignore and he longed to tell Beka that he was beautiful, weird as fuck, but so achingly handsome that Yuri had become unable to look away.

He wasn’t good with words. They lined up perfectly inside his head but something always happened to them on the way out of his mouth. Soft words gained spurs and fear twisted them into weapons. Apart from this one, though admittedly fairly significant secret, he could be himself with Beka. He felt understood and appreciated. 

Misplaced words could change everything. He’d never even confirmed that he was gay - it’s not like it was a secret, he was fairly sure that everyone knew - but it wasn’t anybodies freaking business. He’d like it to become Beka’s business though, if he could just figure out how the fuck to tell him.

He sighed, fingers tracing the outline of the image before slamming his phone down against the seat of the couch and flinging his other arm across his face.

Victor started humming as a soft guitar riff tumbled through the speakers. Most people underestimated Victor’s music collection. Sure, he liked the odd, crappy show tune and horrendously perky pop song, but he was a dancer and choreographer before anything else and music was in his veins. He couldn’t sing for shit but his body moved before he even realised it was animated, alive with each new beat - something he seemed to feel before he even heard it. Katsudon was the same, and though Yuri would sooner swallow a kitten that admit it, it was mesmerising to watch them move together uninhabited, vital and perfectly in sync.

This song, however, surprised even Yuri. The singer was English and had a raw, inelegant voice that met the pretty but gritty guitar line remarkably well.

He hated learning things from the old man, begrudged sharing tastes and ideals. He longed to be his own person, to be recognised on his own merits and not constantly compared to his old mentor. He had railed against Victor’s influence for the longest time but, quite frankly, it has become exhausting and, even more horrifyingly, he has come to actually like the piggy. Being friends with Katsudon meant accepting Victor, and though it physically pained him to admit it, the old man just got him in a way that other people rarely did.

‘Yo, old man,’ he groused, voice laced with false venom, ‘shut the fuck up with the humming. I don’t hate this one.’ Victor smirked knowingly - he was going to be fucking insufferable later - but remained silent and watched Yuri as he turned his focus toward the song.

“I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now”.

The singer crooned, voice gravelly but honest.

“And all the roads we have to walk are winding.  
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding.  
There are many things that I  
Would like to say to you but I don’t know how.”

Yuri sucked in a breath. It’s like this song was about him. The words were simple but so succinctly expressed his feelings for Beka that he momentarily forgot to breathe.

“Because maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me.  
And after all, you’re my wonderwall”. 

Fuck. How the hell did some old, croaky British guy know what was going on inside his head?!

“What the hell was that?” He mumbled at Victor, hiding his need for the answer behind a sneering tone.

“Hmm, Oasis, da? they were popular when I was growing up. I always liked this song the best.”

“You’re such a fucking Grandad, old man. No wonder you’re hair is falling out.” Victor squeaked and quickly raised a hand to pat his perfectly styled fringe. 

“Stop picking on my husband Yurio,” Katsu admonished as he appeared behind Victors back, arms reaching forward to encircle his waist. “You’re hair looks beautiful baby”, he heard the Japanese man whisper softly into Victors ear. The old man smiled and pressed a wet kiss to the corner of his husband’s mouth.

This only ever ended one way and Yuri, pointedly, did not want to be here to see it. He still needed information though and would need to act fast to derail the love fest before they started slobbering over each other.

“So, uh, what was the song called?” He asked faining nonchalance. 

“What was that?” Victor asked, obviously distracted by Katsudon’s hands rubbing gentle circles against his stomach. 

It was disgusting! (Yuri wasn’t jealous of the easy intimacy at all - no, nope, never).  
Yuri glared in their direction and made a gagging sound. “The Oasis one, what was it called?”  
Victor sighed and turned to look beseechingly at Katsu. “Youngsters are so uncultured these days, don’t you think Lyubov moya?”

Katsu smirked, eyes catching Yuri’s conspiratorially. “Actually, I don’t know it either. When did you say it came out?” Victor pouted, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Mid 90s I think”.

Yūri snorted but couldn’t quell the feeling of happiness that swelled in his gut when Katsudon grinned at him. “Yurio wasn’t even born then love, his mom was probably still at school. Maybe you should talk to our parents, they might get more of your vintage references”. Victor gasped and clutched his hands to his chest. “My own Yuri, how could you wound me like this?!” His voice pitched higher with his growing dramatics. “Ganging up on me in my own home.” He flopped backwards onto the floor, limbs sprawled lifelessly against the floorboards.

“I think you’ll find it’s our home dear,” Katsudon reprimanded teasingly and stepped over Victors prone form to high five Yuri over the arm of the couch. The two young men laughed as Victor squirmed, making noises reminiscent of a dying whale.

“Well, it’s been real but I’ve got places to be.” Yuri pushed himself up off the sofa and patted Katsudon’s back as he headed toward the door. “Good luck with that,” he added, gesturing toward the old man. Katsudon just grinned, faint blush dusting his cheeks and eyes raking up Victors long limbs, up and up, toward places Yuri didn’t want to think about. 

“Gross. I’m out,” he groaned, not risking taking the extra few seconds to wave. Instead, he quickly pushed his way out through the door and let it slam shut behind him.

As soon as the fresh air hit his face he reached down to wiggle his phone out of the back pocket of his snug jeans.

The best Yuri  
20.14  
Beka, send help, piggy & the old man are being gross again. I’ve escaped but may need help bleaching my eyeballs.

Beka  
20.16  
Need a distraction?

Despite the fact that they had been friends for years and text almost constantly, Yuri’s heart fluttered at the speed of Beka’s response. 

The best Yuri  
20.17  
Actually, I’ve got a link for you.  
I heard a song today and

Yuri’s heart beat a fast, unsteady rhythm in his chest. He could do it. It was fucking well past time, and he needed Otabek to know how he felt.

Just, fucking, do it! He commanded himself.

Beka  
20.20  
And?

Breathe god damn it, Yuri screamed at himself. Freaking press send you cowardly, stupid fingers.

The best Yuri  
20.25  
https://youtu.be/bx1Bh8ZvH84

His lungs were burning with the lack of oxygen, body refusing to take a breath as he typed the next few words.

The best Yuri  
20.25  
And...

The best Yuri  
20.26  
It reminded me of you


	2. Welders have all the fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Yurio leaves, Victor and Yuri spend some quality time enjoying the music together.
> 
> Or, Victor has a (not so secret) love of cheesy 80’s pop and is deeply in love with his husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otabek’s reaction to chapter 1 will come in the next chapter. I couldn’t resist spending a bit of time with Victor and Yuri.
> 
> If you are too young to know what Flash Dance is then you should go and look it up right now. 80’s classics can only improve your life.

An hour later and Victor was still sprawled out on the floor. The injured expression and dramatic pose, however, were long gone.

The majority of his clothes had been lost in Yuri’s enthusiastic apology but Victor felt too content to move and retrieve them. His husband, who never needed as much time to recover, was pottering in the kitchen and humming along to one of Victor’s C.Ds. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face, it was a small but honest thing, something private and full of feeling.

He had made many mix tapes and C.Ds for Yuri since they met but this one was the Japanese man’s favourite. Yuri had refused to let Victor buy him a wedding gift stating that he was already giving himself, and apart from a few gold medals, that was the only thing that Yuri had ever truly longed for. That ridiculous, beautiful, timid and sexy man failed to see that Victor had been gaining as much, if not more, than he was giving. 

Yuri’s self deprecating nature refused to let himself value his worth in the same category as Victor’s, but Victor was happy to spend a life time trying to prove him wrong. 

The C.D, a cheap and sentimental wedding gift that Yuri could not refuse, had been one such gesture. It wasn’t just for Yuri’s benefit either, Victor felt a compulsive need to show his partner how very important he was to him. The gift selfless and selfish in equal measure; a metaphor, perhaps, for Victor’s very nature.

He had spent hours and hours choosing the perfect songs. Every single one of them reminded him of Yuri.  
Some were heartfelt and soulful while others were uplifting, fun and poppy. They both loved to throw out silly moves to these, dancing around the house while they sang along. 

The song that started to play now was the best of the bunch, in Victor’s opinion. Irene Cara’s ‘Flash Dance - What A Feeling,’ could have been written about his Yuri. Though it was cheesy, and the two Yuri’s teased him mercilessly about how old the song was, and how incredibly stereotypically gay he was being, some of the words resonated deeply with Victor.

‘Your fear seems to hide  
Deep inside your mind  
All alone I have cried  
Silent tears full of pride.’

His wonderful husband still fought with anxiety and it cut Victor deep to see the struggle he went through on a daily basis. Yuri was happy, he whispered this into Victor’s ear, or shouted it out across the ice rink on an almost daily basis, but he still worried, plagued by insecurity and doubt. He probably always would and, whilst Victor hated to see his husband hurting, it was part of who he was, and there was nothing that he would change about Yuri. 

Well... maybe he and Yurio could cut back on the old man jokes a little, but truthfully, Victor even liked the teasing. He loved that the two Yuri’s had become so close, even if it was to his own detriment. Seeing them laughing and joking together filled Victor’s heart in a way that was difficult to describe.

The chorus though, that truly captured Yuri’s soul, his determination and passion; all of the things that had first drawn Victor to him.

‘What a feeling  
Being’s believing  
I can have it all  
Now I’m dancing for my life  
Take your passion  
And make it happen  
Pictures come alive  
You can dance right through your life.’

Victor pulled himself up off the floor and quietly crept toward the kitchen. As he expected, Yuri was twirling round the small space, arms flying and legs twisting elegantly while he lost himself in the music.

So, incredibly, beautiful. If the rest of the world could see his husband moving, so care free, in nothing but his pants and socks then he was sure the entire populous would fall in love. However, he had no intention of sharing and was happy to keep the moment for himself.

As Yuri spun in his direction, kicking one long, flexible leg high into the air, he spotted Victor watching him and blushed furiously. Victor felt the grin widen across his face and stepped forward, eager to keep Yuri dancing. He swept his husband up in his arms, one closing around his waist whilst the other caressed his face. He swung their hips to the rhythm and twirled to the side, pulling Yuri with him and spun them round and around the room until they were both laughing and dizzy. 

“Never stop dancing for me,” he breathed softly and kissed Yuri’s pink cheeks. His brown eyes were alive and sparkling, his smile embarrassed but radiant.

“Maybe we should get you some leggings and an off-the-shoulder sweater too,” he teased. “I’d pay to watch you any day”.

Yuri laughed, clear and bright. “I only accept payment in kisses from tall, platinum haired Russians,” he joked back. 

“I think that can probably be arranged”.


	3. Leo has Otabek’s back (I just want to make love to you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek panics when he gets Yuri’s text and turns to his good friend Leo De La Iglesia for help. 
> 
> Lesson? Never trust your friends with your love life.
> 
> This is total crack

“What does this mean?” Otabek demanded, shoving his phone in front of Leo’s face with uncharacteristic impatience.

It had taken a long time for Leo to fall into an unexpected friendship with Otabek Altin. The guy was an amazing skater, but his facial expressions lacked, well, expression, and boy could the Kazakh be blunt! For months, Leo had operated under the misconception that Otabek didn’t like him. It wasn’t until he had seen the Kazakh strike up a fast and, quite frankly, spectacularly odd friendship with Yuri Plisetsky that he had started to understand something about his fellow skater. Otabek was clueless and really bad at casual social interaction.

It wasn’t that Otabek was intentionally rude or standoffish, he was just really, really bad at understanding social cues. He couldn’t read body language to save his life and the subtleties of playful speech left him completely bewildered. 

Joking with him was a bit of a hit and miss affair, it wasn’t that Otabek didn’t have a sense of humour, it’s just that it was... kind of odd. The things that he found funny were, being generous, quirky, but sometimes down-right bizarre. The boy was, a professional level practical joker, with that stoic, deadpan face nobody ever saw it coming. He was like a deadly ninja with unusual comic ideals and a preoccupation with cling film. Still, he just didn’t get language based humour, especially sexual innuendo. This made spending time around Victor and Katsuki a bit of a minefield.

It was, in fact, Otabek’s inability to decode day-to-day human interactions that pushed him from being an interesting stranger that shared Leo’s rink, to an unusual, but valued friend.

Otabek wasn’t the mysterious loner that his fans liked to dream about. It was true that he kept a lot to himself and, unlike Leo, seemed happy in his own company, but he had friends in every corner of the globe. In Leo’s opinion, most of them were a little bit quirky - a random assortment of oddballs that had strange and unusual modes off communication, but they seemed nice enough. 

With that in mind, Yuri Plisetsky made perfect sense. He had barrelled into Otabek’s life, (and as a result Leo and the rest of their rink mate’s lives too), often pulling a bemused Victor Nikiforov and a bewildered Katsuki Yuri with him.

The small, angry Russian was a bundle of energy and seemed to pull the Kazakh into his orbit. If Leo hadn’t spent the better part of the first three months of their relationship staring at Otabek and trying to figure him out, then he might not have noticed the subtle shift in his behaviour. But, something about him was different around Yuri, fascination evident in the the slight quirk of Otabek’s lips and the softening of his, usually piecing, stare.

The older couple, however, were a source of endless confusion. Katsuki; unfailingly polite and often self sacrificing was, for the most part, just mildly unsettling. Otabek never fully understood if the Japanese man just allowed himself to be coerced into things to make everyone else happy, or truly enjoyed their interactions. Victor, however, was an total mystery. His flamboyant and causally joking manor often hid his true intentions and left Otabek feeling overwhelmed and unsure how to respond. 

Both men had taken to texting Otabek regularly to keep tabs on Yuri, but also to ‘welcome him into their family.’ Leo wasn’t quite sure what that meant but it seemed important to Yuri, despite his very loud and vocal protestations, and there didn’t seem to be much that Otabek wouldn’t do to make him happy.

As a result, Otabek had taken to asking Leo for his input on the, often long and rambling, messages that he received from the older men. These, initially brief, interactions had led Otabek and Leo to discover a shared love of classic literature, motorcycles and rum-laced hot chocolate and sealed the deal on an intercontinental friendship.

Otabek’s relationship with Yuri Plisetsky, however, had been different right from the start. After some very blunt and awkward conversations at the start of their friendship, (several of which Leo had been an unwilling witness too), Yuri and Otabek seemed to strike up their own language. Composed mainly from pictures, mp3 files and honesty, it didn’t really make sense to anyone else, but spoke with perfect clarity to Otabek. Yuri seemed to be the one person that Otabek never needed help to understand. 

They were, in Leo’s opinion, a very strange but perfect set, and were destined to be together - if only Otabek could work out that Yuri was constantly flirting with him.

For this reason, Leo was more than a little shocked when the message (currently being shoved in front of his face) turned out to be from Yuri and not, the older platinum-haired Russian.

My Yuri  
20.17  
Actually, I’ve got a link for you  
I heard a song today and

Otabek  
20.20  
And?

My Yuri  
20.25  
https://youtu.be/bx1Bh8ZvH84

My Yuri  
20.25  
And...

My Yuri  
20.26  
It reminded me of you

“Leo, what does it mean?” Otabek demanded again, voice calm but agitation apparent in the slight down-turn of his mouth, and the proximity of his phone to Leo’s face.

“Uh, that he’s found a song that reminds him of you and you should listen to it?” Leo guessed casually.

“I’m not stupid Iglesia”, Otabek huffed. “What does the song mean? I think... it might mean something... but I don’t... I might mess things up.”

“I’m not going to be able to help you unless you play the song for me,” Leo replied with a laugh. Otabek glared and cradled the phone against his chest for a moment before passing it hesitantly to his friend. Leo wasn’t used to seeing him this flustered, even at the height of frustration, Otabek usually projected a cool and calm vibe that Leo was a little bit jealous of.

The song sounded kind of familiar but Leo wasn’t really feeling it until the the chorus kicked in and then... Oh My God! 

Did Leo just hear himself squeal? He could totally pass that off as a manly grunt right?! There was a tiny chance that he might be overly invested, but he couldn’t summon the will to be properly embarrassed because... it was finally happening! “Otabek, dude!” He reached out and patted his friend’s muscular shoulder. “Yuri is totally telling you that he likes you!”

Otabek snorted, sounding unimpressed. “Of course he likes me man, he’s my best friend”. Leo felt his face scrunch in disbelief. “You’re so unbelievably clueless Ota! Listen to the words... this isn’t some cryptic message. Yuri is telling you that he likes you, more than anyone else...” He stares pointedly at Otabek and lets his words sink in.

A small smile started to play at the edge of Otabek’s mouth and a slight blush lit up his smooth skin. “What should I say?” He asked, pulling his phone back out of Leo’s grasp.

Leo started to laugh again, but stopped with sudden shock when he noticed the sincerity on Otabek’s face. “Come on man, I know you’ve got game. I met your friends from home and they told me the tales about your DJ nights back home”.

Otabek sighed, “I will never stop regretting introducing you to those guys! And, that was different man, those people were just hook ups and there weren’t even that many of them!” Leo grinned at his friend’s discomfort. “It’s easy when they tell you what they want, and you don’t have to talk,” Otabek continued, “but I’ve never really had a proper boyfriend before and Yuri... I need him in my life. I don’t want to fuck things up”.

Leo was surprised by the sudden rush of honesty and willingness to share. He really wanted to give Otabek the push that he needed to get his act together. The time and dedication that the other man had put into to pining for Yuri was verging on ridiculous.  
“Give me your phone Ota, I know just what to do,” he assured offering a dazzling smile and letting his confidence flow.

Flicking over to YouTube, Leo quickly clicked on the link he wanted and copied it into Otabek’s conversation with Yuri before hitting send.

He passed the phone back with a breezy grin but felt his confidence ebb at the look on Otabek’s face.

“What the actual fuck Leo?!?”

Otabek  
20:45  
https://youtu.be/j4ErjX8p20s

‘All I want to do is wash your clothes  
I don't want to keep you indoors  
There is nothing for you to do  
But keep me making love to you  
Love to you, ooohooo  
Love to you’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because awkward Otabek would be sexy af


	4. A rat in a cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri has been going out of his mind waiting for Beka to reply; his heart is full of hope but he has never been more terrified.
> 
> When Beka finally responds, with some very misguided help from Leo, everything starts to unravel.
> 
> Or, sometimes only Smashing Pumpkins will do.

Anxiety and excitement warred throughout Yuri’s system as he stared at the message notification on his phone. Beka had finally, finally replied to his message. It felt like he had been waiting for hours; it was probably more like fifteen minutes but he, and probably half of Russia, were well aware that patience wasn’t one of his strengths.

There were no words, just a link and he opened it quickly, desperate to know what Beka thought about his confession.

What-the-absolute-fuck?!

The best Yuri  
20.47  
Beka what the fuck?

Was Beka saying he wanted to fuck him? Then why would he choose such a shitty, cheesy pop song? It was off the freaking Coke ad for crying out loud. It wasn’t even original!

He, like some stupid and overly emotional Katsudon wannabe, had admitted that he loved his best friend, and said ‘friend’ responded with a song about screwing? Jesus fucking Christ! 

Maybe it wasn’t even about sex... as if that was’t bad enough! Was Otabek making fun of him?

The best Yuri  
20.48  
You fucking asshole

Yuri was livid. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so angry, and that was saying something - he put up with Katsudon and Victor slobbering over each other on an almost daily basis!! The couple were sickening and infuriating in equal measure; they couldn’t keep their sloppy, grabby hands off each other - and yet somehow Yuri survived. He had even managed to live through J.J. fucking Leroy stealing gold from him that one time (that was never, ever going to happen again). But now, he was dead. Or Otabek would be dead and Yuri would be found standing over him with his very sharp and pointy knife shoes.

The best Yuri  
20.48  
I just told you...  
And you’re making fun of me?  
Fuck you Otabek Altin.

Beka  
20.48  
Yuri, I would never make fun of you for that. This is a mistake, I can explain!

He better have a damn good explanation because Yuri was thirty seconds away from launching his phone straight through the freaking window.

Calm, the hell, down Yuri, he told himself. This is Beka, he wouldn’t screw you over like that.

The best Yuri  
20.49  
Did you send the wrong link?  
You don’t even like that shitty-pop-Trash.

Beka  
20.50  
Well no but...

The best Yuri  
20.50  
But what asshole? 

Yuri held his breath watching the three dots pulsate on his screen. This was either going to be a freaking long explanation or Otabek had deleted and re-written several times. He was losing patience and he couldn’t keep still. He paced around his apartment, entire body jittery with the need to move - or smash his head against the wall until he could forget.

Beka  
20.53  
It wasn’t exactly me that sent it.

Yuri’s anger went from uncomfortable to full on, uncontrolled rage. That, freaking idiot Kazakh! Why the fuck did he even like him?!?

The best Yuri  
20.54  
You showed Leo didn’t you!

No answer

The best Yuri  
20.54  
That was fucking private Beka! I can’t believe you did that to me.

Beka  
20.55  
Yuri I’m sorry  
I just needed

The best Yuri  
20.55  
To laugh at me, yeah I got it!  
Fucking whatever man.

The best Yuri  
20.56  
Have fun with your new best friend.

Yuri wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or cry but he knew he couldn’t keep still. He slammed his phone face down on the table. He heard the horrible cracking sound of a shattered screen but couldn’t bring himself to care. He just needed to get away. From Beka, from himself, from the fucking horrible words whirling round his head.

Tears started to leak down his face. Salty streaks that mocked his inability to control his body’s reactions. 

He turned and spun towards the door, not even bothering to grab a coat. Out, out, out. He fucking needed to get out, right now.

He snatched his headphones off the counter as he whirled toward the exit, shoving them violently onto his head before the cold air even hit him. He was going to drown out the fucking riot in his head even if he went deaf in the process.

“The world is a vampire, sent to drain  
Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames  
And what do I get, for my pain?  
Betrayed desires, and a piece of the game”

Yuri let the music blast into his brain. Otabek might not get him, but at least Billy Corgan did. He swiped angrily at his dripping eyes and ran.

He didn’t hear his phone ping, or see the furious flashing of incoming messages as he raced out of the door.

Beka  
20.59  
Yura, it’s not like that.  
I’m sorry.

Beka 21.05  
I just needed help. I wasn’t sure if I understood.

Beka 21.10  
Please just talk to me Yura.

3 missed call from Beka  
21.15

Beka 21.20  
Please Yura

I love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things might just pick up for our angsty boys in the next chapter (it’s going to be all kinds of soft).
> 
> I think the tension in this song matches Yuri’s teen angst and dramatic flare perfectly.
> 
> https://youtu.be/8-r-V0uK4u0
> 
> (I hardly ever drive along singing this song at the top of my lungs when I’m pissed at life ;-) honest).


	5. You’re the one I want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek deals with the fallout following Leo’s horrible musical choices.
> 
> Or, Otabek is spiralling and turns to Victuri for help. How will he get Yura to forgive him?

Otabek’s brain was on overdrive trying to process what the fuck had just happened.

Yuri was so very angry and Otabek had no idea what to do. They’d fought before - it was hard not too when Yuri was in the mood to claw things apart - but he’d never shut him out before. Yuri always answered Otabek’s calls, no matter what. It wasn’t even unheard of for them maintain a conversation whilst Yura visited the bathroom.

The ice tiger of Russia was like a beautiful but wild creature; when threatened, he attacked. He was a sweeping storm of fury and unbridled energy in human form. A force of nature wielding a tongue sharper than any sword. Otabek was used to shielding himself from flailing limbs and cutting words, but silence was new and it was absolutely terrifying.

His body had shut down, all energy sent straight to his brain in a desperate search for a solution. So far, he was coming up blank and, instead, imagining a horribly lonely future without his best friend. He’d been standing motionless for a seemingly infinite period of time, phone clutched tightly in his hand and every fibre in his being willing Yuri to reply. Everything hurt but he wasn’t sure if the pain was emanating from his wildly beating heart, or the tension and rigidity that stress and fear had forced onto his body. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. How had this happened?

Oh yeah... Leo.

Otabek forced his limbs to move and propelled himself into Leo’s space. He knew his face would look blank right now, but he thought that Leo knew him well enough to know that this was a very, very bad sign. Sure enough, his friend’s face twitched and he took a large step backwards, hands coming up to ward off impending doom by angry Kazakh.

“Beka, man, buddy,” he stuttered out. “That didn’t totally go entirely according to plan but we can totally fix this”.

Beka allowed himself to loom closer, everything about his posture a warning. He wasn’t a tall man, even Yuri had surpassed him with his last growth spurt, but he was solid and athletic and he knew how to use his body.

“Yura isn’t accepting my calls,” he responded, voice worryingly flat. “How exactly are we going to fix this when he won’t even talk to me?”

“I knew everything would get fucked up if he found out,” Otabek whispered. He wanted to turn himself to stone, suck all oxygen from the room and just cease to feel. He wasn’t prone to dramatics but he was living one of his biggest fears and he was completely and totally overwhelmed. 

“Ota,” Leo spoke gently and stepped tentatively forward, closing ground between them. “This didn’t happen because he found out. This happened because he doesn’t know how you feel.”  
Otabek glared, teeth grinding and free hand twisting into the bottom of his t-shirt.  
“Look at your phone,” Leo commanded, bravely grasping at Otabek’s arm to force the device up in front of his face.  
“Yuri didn’t even see the last few messages, there is no read receipt.”

Otabek frowned down at the screen. “How does that make anything better?” He demanded.

“He’s pissed because he opened up to you and, I know this is partly my responsibility and I’m sorry, but... he probably thinks you’re messing with him because you’re not interested.”

Otabek growled and whipped his head up. “Partly your fault?” His voice was still flat but it did little to hide his growing frustration.

Leo held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Okay, at least a 70/30% split, my fault... but we can work it out”.

Otabek stood as still as the human body would allow, eyes wide and staring hopelessly at his rink mate. All of his muscles were taught, his body locked in shut down. For several long moments, the awful pounding of his heart was his only motion and he tried, desperately, not to cry.

Leo watched back, worry written clear across his, usually smiling, face. He had probably never seen Otabek melt down quite this badly before. He knew that the statue routine scared people, but it was so hard to snap himself out of it once it started. He took a deep breath and forced himself to blink, slowing uncurling his fingers and forcing them to relax the death grip torturing his shirt.

The America seemed to relax slightly as Otabek came back to life. He reached out to rest a warm hand on Otabek’s tense shoulder. “Ota, I think we need to call Japanese Yuri.”

Otabek sighed. He really, really wasn’t going to enjoy this.

“Moshi Moshi,” Yuri answered brightly.  
“Hi Yuri,” Otabek started nervously. “I need your help with something”.  
“Of course Otabek, what can I do for you?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Yuri and Otabek to talk on the phone but it was unusual for Otabek to instigate the conversation. Yuri was, of course, aware of this and failed to keep the surprise out of his voice.

“I messed up,” Otabek said plainly. “Something happened... uh... a misunderstanding... and Yura is very angry with me”. Otabek could almost hear the smile harden on the Japanese man’s face. Nobody hurt Yuri without experiencing retribution from a Katsuki-Nikiforov shaped avenger.

”What did you do?”

Otabek knew that the Japanese man was protective of Yura, but he had never heard such steel in his quiet voice before. Great, now two Yuri’s were mad at him.

“Yura confessed something to me... ah... about how he feels.”  
He paused, realising that Yuri had stopped breathing. You can do this Altin, he told himself, voice shaking as he pushed through his discomfort. “I didn’t respond quite how he expected, and... Uh... he’s very upset and he won’t answer the phone. Please, please, can you make sure he is okay?” No matter what happened, he desperately needed to know that Yura was safe.

“What did you say to him,” Yuri demanded sharply, before shouting for him husband to join him.  
“I didn’t know what to say,” Otabek admitted, his body trembling slightly. “I asked Leo for help and well, it didn’t go very well”.  
“You don’t like him back?” Yuri asked, disbelief clearly evident in his tone.  
“Of course I do!” Otabek almost shouted, frustration surging through the fear. “I was afraid of saying the wrong thing so I showed Yura’s message to Leo, which turned out to be a really stupid idea.” He huffed, palms sweaty and every part of him desperate for this conversation to be over. “The message we sent was... less than ideal... Yura thinks we were making fun of him”.

Otabek paused, realising that Victor had joined the conversation and was making strange squeaks of displeasure.

“Solnyshko,” the older man interrupted, addressing his husband, “take my car and go look for Yurachka. Check the lot at the rink and the alley by the park where the strays live”.

Otabek heard them kiss goodbye and the door slam shut as Yuri left the apartment hurriedly. A few seconds later, Victor’s strongly accented voice rang clear and calm through the phone.

“Otabek, Yura doesn’t forgive easily. He’s been hurt many times and he doesn’t believe that he is lovable. He is wrong of course. So very wrong. I know that you care deeply for him, or I would have left you on the phone to my Yuri; he is not so forgiving when people upset our Yurachka.”

Otabek frowned. He didn’t dare interrupt, afraid that Victor might change his mind about helping, but his words were barbed and ripped at him relentlessly. He hated to see Yura hurting, and never wanted to be the one causing the damage and yet, here he was.

“He won’t talk to me,” Otabek choked out. “I don’t know what to do.”  
Victor hummed thoughtfully. “You need to do something that he can’t doubt. A gesture to show what your words cannot. My Yuri, he did not believe that I could love him for the longest time. His self doubt swallows all reason at times, and words vanish so easily. He likes to hear me say it of course, and I would happily spend the rest of my days making declarations, but he needs more than that...”

“The kiss,” Otabek interrupted, “on the ice, with all the cameras”.  
Victor laughed, gentle and genuine. Something all together different from the larger-than-life personality that he put on show for the public.

“In part, yes,” he admitted easily. “Also, I am an impulsive man and my husband is very beautiful, I cannot always be held accountable for my actions.” Otabek was surprised by the older man’s honesty. This wasn’t a side of Victor that he was familiar with.  
“It’s many things, a thousand tiny actions every day. Lacing his skates for good luck, a cup of his favourite tea to calm his nerves, gentle touches, a kiss first thing in the morning. My Solnyshko, he likes to dance. He is so very beautiful when he dances, Otabek. When he is sad, I hold him close and dance with him all night. He communicates with his body, so I speak to him in a way that makes sense to him. You and Yura, you have that too Da? You don’t need words. What do you do that’s just for him?

Understanding slowly crept over Otabek, hope bringing his frozen system back to life.

“Make him see that he is special, that what you have is real.”

Otabek knew what he needed to do. It was going to be awkward as hell and horribly embarrassing, but maybe it would make Yura see...

“Victor, I’ve got to go,” he said abruptly. “Please let me know as soon as Yura is safe with Katsuki.”

As soon as he hung up he raced over to Leo to ask for his help.  
“I need you to film me,” he said, a statement rather than a question, “and then show me how to load it onto Instagram”.

Leo raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You hate seeing yourself on social media” he pointed out unhelpfully.  
Otabek shrugged and grabbed at Leo’s arm to tow him out of the rink. “It’s for Yura”.

“If that’s what you want man,” Leo acquiesced. “What exactly am I going to be filming?”  
Otabek sucked in a deep lungful of air in a bid to try to calm the nervous clamouring inside his head. 

“I’m going to sing to him”.

Leo barked a quick laugh and spun to stare at the Kazakh, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You don’t sing man, you never even join at karaoke and I’ve never even heard you sing in the showers!”

“I sing to Yura,” Otabek said quietly, another secret out in the open. “Sometimes he has trouble sleeping. It’s not even about the song, just so he knows I’m there at the end of the phone.” Otabek felt his cheeks flush slightly, heat rising beneath his skin, whist Leo stared in total shock.  
“Who even are you man?” He demanded. “Some dark horse of Kazakhstan”.

Otabek shrugged and shoved his phone into his rink mates line of sight. “I’m gonna sing this,” he declared, trying to sound more confident than he felt whilst clicking open a playlist titled ‘Songs for sleepy kitten’.

“You’re such a sap man,” Leo teased as Otabek scrolled to the correct song.

“Just shut up and listen”, he directed, voice firm as he turned up the volume and let a soft, sweet melody seep from the speakers.

https://youtu.be/4ZW7tsxCnnk

“This is totally gonna kill your rep man,” Leo warned, smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth.

“Yura’s worth it”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, more drama. The softest song will sooth the pain! 
> 
> Chris and Thomas, ‘You’re the one I want’.


	6. You got through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katsuki Yuri is a protective momma bear and Victor helps Yuri P let love in.
> 
> Or, Victor and Yuri help Yura deal with aftermath of the argument and Beka is an awkward bundle of goodness.

Everything was fucked up. 

Yuri pushed the palms of his hands against his eyes, refusing to let himself cry again. He felt weirdly separate from his surroundings, brain fuzzy from his earlier sobs and body exhausted from all the running. Turns out, you can’t actually outrun a broken heart; the damn things follows you like a freaking ninja of doom. He’d tried his fucking hardest to pound his feet into the pavement until his brain stopped screaming at him, but all he had achieved was a blister and a really bad headache.

He couldn’t believe that Beka had been so cruel. His friend could be brutally honest, to the point that it could be a little painful sometimes, but it always came from a good place. This... was something else all together. 

He twisted his fingers into fists, held tight against his sides. He felt betrayed by everything; Beka, his own heart for getting him into this mess, his body for being unable to escape his thoughts, and his mind for failing to provide the anger that so often set him alight. That was possibly the biggest insult of all. His anger was always so close to the surface, right there waiting, for good and bad, to be channelled into his skating routines, or to sweep him up into a tirade of rage and kicking feet when things went wrong.

Right now, he just felt sad. A strange sensation of being filled by hurt, but somehow hollow at the same time. It made him want to scratch through his skin just to feel something different.

His hands twitched up towards his head, fingers reaching out to twist frantically into his hair. 

“Yuri-Kun,” Katsu reprimand, voice calm but firm, “don’t hurt yourself”. His warm hands encircled Yuri’s wrists, pulling them down to his chest before reaching out to softly stroke through Yuri’s blond tangles himself.

The gentle movement should have made Yuri furious; he hated being babied by The Old Man and his husband. But right now, Katsu’s gentle comfort was the only thing keeping him grounded. 

They were piled, ungainly, on the couple’s large sofa, Yuri stretched out along its full length with his head resting snugly on Katsu’s lap. Victor sat on the floor, arm stretched along the couch cushions and head resting against his husband’s knee, right next Yuri’s own. Usually, he would accuse Victor of being territorial and mock him for being unable to share Katsu’s warmth but... today it was oddly comforting. At least here he felt wanted.

They sat together quietly for a long stretch of time. Shadows danced on the polished wooden floors until light began to glow on the horizon. Yuri sighed and wriggled upright, batting Katsu’s nimble fingers away from his scalp. 

“I should call Grandpa,” he said to nobody in particular, wincing at the rough edge to his voice. “I left my phone when... I didn’t want to look at it anymore.”

Victor pressed his own into Yuri’s pale hands and patted his leg before sliding up to sit beside his husband and leaning tiredly into his side. 

He couldn’t help watching them as he stepped away to make the call, voice full of fake cheer that he knew his Grandpa would see through straight away. He kept the conversation as short as possible and let his eyes drift over take in Katsu’s face as he ran his fingers along Victor’s jaw. 

Yuri’s heart lurched in his chest. He hated how pathetic he was being but, he wanted that with Beka, so freaking much. He said his goodbyes and hung up quickly as his eyes started to leak - the traitors, maybe sight was overrated? Maybe he could just punch himself in the face until his body started to listen to his plea to please... stop... fucking... crying.

As he made his way back into the lounge he realised that Victor and Katsu had started to bicker quietly. Faces turned away to keep the conversation private but failing, epically, in the quiet apartment.

“We need to show him, love,” the old man was saying earnestly. “He’s hurting so badly, this could fix everything.”

Katsu was shaking his head and staring at Victor with a calm but resolute expression. “It might be too soon Vitya, he needs time to come to terms with his feelings. This might hurt him even more if he isn’t ready.”

“Solnyshko, I know you want to protect our kitten,” Victor reasoned, “I do too. But we have to let Yurochka make his own choices and he can’t do that if he doesn’t have all of the information.”

“Ugh,” Katsu sighed dramatically and dropped his head onto Victor’s chest. “Why are you being so rational all of a sudden! You should be flopping all over Yurochka and making a scene right now”.

The old man chuckled and pulled away to brush a soft kiss against the Japanese man’s cheek. “This is important love, he replied evenly. You and I, we made a lot of mistakes at the start...” Katsu spluttered an interruption; eyes screwing up at the insult to their relationship. Victor placed a placating hand against his neck and pressed another kiss to his puffed up cheek. Yuri, my love, I wouldn’t change a thing. What we have is wonderful, you are wonderful. But... things could have been so much easier if we’d listened to each other from the beginning. I know you’re mad at Beka, but Yurochka didn’t give him much chance to explain. Imagine if you had refused to talk to me after we fought about your retirement. I don’t think I could have bared it if you had shut me out.”

“Vitya,” Katsu whispered and looped his arms around his husband, pulling him close.

Victor smiled, love shining, unchecked, in his the soft upturn of his lips. “Yurochka needs to give himself the chance to love, and to do that he needs to give Otabek a chance. It’s not always going to be easy, and sometimes he is going to hurt...”

“Vitya I don’t...” Katsu tried to interrupt again but Victor placed a long, elegant finger against his lips.

“But he will get all the good stuff too, whether it’s with Otabek or someone new. Would you take that away from him Solnyshko?”

Yuri couldn’t listen to anymore of this. God, he hated it when the old man was reasonable. Almost as much as he hated being talked about. Would nobody fucking talk actually to him, instead of about him or behind is back. He didn’t think he had the energy to deal with this right now.

“Are you too done talking about me yet?” He questioned, voice acidic. The two older men jumped guiltily away from their embrace and turned to face Yuri’s wrath.  
“I don’t need you interfering! Jesus Christ, I knew it was a mistaking letting Katsu bring me here. He snatched at his hoody on the back of the sofa and whirled away to stomp to the spare room.

Before he could get to the door, Victor, somehow, managed to snag his sleeve and still his retreat. “Take my phone Yurochka,” he commanded softly. “There is a message for you on Instagram”. Yuri snorted in disdain but accepted the device and crept towards the solace of a warm bed.

“So now he freaking gets an account,” he muttered to himself, twirling Victor’s phone restlessly around his palms.

Beka has fucking hurt him! Why should he listen to anything that jerk had to say!! 

But, Jesus Christ, maybe he wanted to. He didn’t think he could let go of Beka. Even if he didn’t want him... even if it hurt... he needed his best friend.

If he was being honest, Victor’s flowery and annoying monologue had managed to sink beneath his skin and, frustratingly, was resonating with his most secret hopes. Damn that sappy shithead! It was totally Victor’s fault that he was going soft.

He opened Beka’s profile and hovered over the one and only post. Hesitating, his fingers and heart were both stilled by trepidation. It’s better to know, he told himself. Just do it - get over with.

He pressed play and, almost instantly, felt all of the air leave his body as Beka’s low, rough voice emanated from the video.

“I’m not very good at talking about my feelings,” he admitted, eyes downcast. “I upset someone really important to me today because I couldn’t find the right words. I should be saying that I’m sorry, but more than that, I want you to know how I feel”. He sucked in a shaking breath and did nothing to hide the colour flooding his face. 

Yuri watched, eyes wide and whole body taught, waiting. Beka was now staring straight at the screen, eyes burning straight into Yuri.

“This is what I should have said,” Beka added, voice quiet and vulnerable, “I hope you don’t mind that the words aren’t mine.”

Yuri almost lost it when a soft melody began to play and Beka started to hum along. He couldn’t believe what was happening! Beka started to sing and Yuri melted. The Kazakh’s voice was a little gruff but achingly raw and Yuri loved it, just like he always did. Beka only ever sang for him and his heart thrummed with the knowledge of it. Other people would see this, but it was just for him, for them. Maybe Victor was right (not that he would ever say that to his face).

“It's hard to make the moment last  
Hard to keep the dreams you have  
Hard to let the love inside your heart  
The guards are always at the gates  
Turning everyone away  
But you got through  
Didn't you?  
You're the one I want  
You're the one I need  
You're the only thing that makes it easy to be”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sappy, I’m not even sorry!
> 
> Maybe a bit out of character for Victor but I like to believe that he has hidden depths.


	7. Oh yeah, oh no

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri’s reaction to Otabek’s video through the eyes and ears of Katsuki Yuri.
> 
> Victor might have displayed new hidden depths but that doesn’t mean he is beyond a bit of eves dropping.

Yuri Katsuki was a nervous man. He did the best to control his anxiety, helped enormously by the warm and snuggly comfort of his husband’s ever ready embrace. What, decidedly, did not assist his relaxation, was the loud and insistent screeching currently emanating from their spare room.

Yurochka had only just retreated, and Yuri had used the subsequent moments of peace to wrap himself, recklessly tight, around the love of his life. With his face squashed comfortably against Vitya’s neck he had been taking slow and steady breaths, beginning a long and comfortable process of winding down after a long and stressful day.

Sharing a hurried look of trepidation, Victor and Yuri both scrambled to get up off the couch and made their way towards the guest room.

Yuri knocked quietly but when there was no answer Victor moved him aside and barged straight into the room. Sometimes Vitya’s lack of boundaries has its benefits...

Yuri entered more carefully, distressed to find Yurochka unmoving on the bed with silent tears steaming down his face. He blinked and quickly scrubbed at his cheeks when he noticed their presence and muttered quietly, “that stupid, gorgeous idiot”.

Yuri tensed, not ready to face another drama, but asked tentatively, “Are you alright Yurochka?” The need to protect the young Russian overriding his exhaustion.

The blond boy sniffled but nodded his head, a fierce blush creeping across his face as a small smile overtook one side of his mouth. “I think,” he whispered hesitantly, “Beka might like me back”. 

He sat, momentarily unmoving, wide eyed and looking unusually young and vulnerable.

Vitya, unable to restrain himself, cooed adoringly and Yuri moved quickly to elbow him in the side before Yurochka’s temper overtook the quiet moment.

The young man blinked rapidly, shock and joy pushed back in favour of his usual scowl. Yuri glared at Victor, annoyed at him for disrupting the softness of Yurochka’s expression.

“He’s still an idiot though,” Yuri grumbled. “If he thinks I’m going to forgive him without piroshki or Gucci then he is very, fucking, mistaken.”

Yuri rolled his eyes at the Russian’s theatrics. They all knew when Yurochka was fronting; reliably unable to admit the depth of his feeling or the softness of his heart.

“You should call him,” Vitya encouraged excitedly.

“Who asked you old man?” Yurochka huffed back but was unable to stop a wide and toothy grin from spreading across his face.

“Maybe you should text first?” Yuri cautioned. It would be mid afternoon in America and Otabek was likely to be at practise. He didn’t want Yurochka to have to face the anxiety of an unanswered call if Otabek was unable to come to the phone.

Yurochka scoffed loudly. “Beka will answer,” he said confidently. “Now, get lost. This is private”. He levered himself off the bed and forcibly shoved both Yuri and Victor towards the door.

“Don’t rush things Yurochka,” Yuri cautioned anxiously. The younger man just rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You think I’m gonna listen to you?” Yurochka huffed indignantly. “The old man basically had to jump you on live T.V just to get a kiss”. Yuri blushed and puffed his cheeks out, mouth open but words failing him. “Some of us prefer action,” the blonde finished, full of false bravado, “preferably with tongue.” 

Yuri glanced sideways at Vitya and was surprised to find a small smile gracing his handsome face. He reached out and twined their fingers together. Vitya’s presence in his life still took his breath away sometimes, the certainty of his love a small, almost unbelievable, miracle. Back before their first kiss he never would have dreamt that it could become something to be relied upon, something cherished. His lover was right, he did want that for Yurochka.

With a flick of his messy blonde locks, Yurochka dismissed them, slamming the bedroom door in Yuri’s face.

Yuri began to move away but Victor extended one long, slender arm and snagged him around the waist, pulling him close. Yuri shivered happily as his husband nuzzled into the side of his face, free hand cupping the back of his neck.

“Put your ear hear Solnyshko,” he said quietly, pointing to the crack between the door and the wall. “You can hear if you’re quiet.” Yuri shook his head violently and moved to pull away. He didn’t get far. Victor stilled his escape with a gentle press of warm lips to lips and a quick flick of his clever tongue. “Don’t you want to make sure Yurochka is okay?” Vitya whispered imploringly. Yuri was no match for the ungodly force of his husband’s beautiful blue eyes - damn his seductive face! Sighing in defeat, he pressed his ear, guilty, against the door.

To start with all he could hear were mumbles and a few hums but he pushed Victor over a little to adjust his angle and get a better position. 

“I saw the video,” he heard him say softly. “You’re such a fucking sap Beka.” 

Everything went quiet, presumably Otabek was responding, words hidden from the eaves droppers by their distance from the phone.

Then suddenly, the young man snorted and laughed once, sound sharp. “Damn right you’re going to make it up to me!” He huffed grumpily. More mumbles followed and then, voice shy, “I’ve got a few ideas about how you could make a start”.

Yuri gasped and knew he was blushing. He couldn’t believe Yurochka was being so shameless. Perhaps it was a Russian thing? Vitya was no better. His husband chuckled quietly beside him as if to confirm these thoughts.

“Yes I liked it,” Yurochka was saying gently as Yuri directed his attention back to the crack in the door. “I love you to Beka.”

The young man’s voice was unbearably soft and Yuri could not stop the happy squeak that escaped his throat. Oops.

Before he could back away, the door was thrown open and Yurochka loomed in the empty space. 

“Fuck off,” he instructed. Red face and sloppy smile causing the threat to lose it’s intended menace. He slammed the door shut again and left Yuri to pull Victor away, resolutely heading towards their own bedroom.

“Come to bed with me Vitya,” he asked, not really leaving room for disagreement. 

“Gladly Solnyshko,” Vitya replied with a smile, following obediently.

Once they were snuggled beneath the covers, curtains drawn against the brightening early morning light, Yuri turned his eyes on his husband and gazed at him accusingly. “You got us in trouble,” he said, pouting.

“You’re the one that couldn’t keep quiet my love.” Victor teased, voice warm. “Maybe you need to practice biting your tongue under duress.” He winked salaciously and rolled onto his font, trapping Yuri beneath him.

Despite his earlier fatigue, Yuri felt a rush of heat and excitement buzz through his body. The weight of his husband’s gorgeous body pressed him provocatively against the mattress, and he failed miserably to hide his interest. Victor smirked knowingly and kissed along Yuri’s jaw, down his neck and onto his collar bone. Yuri sighed happily and wiggled, unashamedly eager, closer to Vitya.

His husband hummed softly. “You’re already making noises Solnyshko.” He whispered, sounding pleased. “Yurochka will hear you”.

“Put some music on,” Yuri commanded, knowing full well that he would be unable to remain silent when Victor took his mouth to him.

“What do you want?” Victor asked between sloppy kisses. “Anything,” Yuri gasped wantonly. “Just not that damn Etta James song.” Vitya chuckled with amusement but reached for Yuri’s phone, single handed, to select a song. The other trailed, teasingly, down Yuri’s chest and he fell back against the pillows, biting his lips shut until Vitya started the music.

As the first notes rang out into the quiet of the room Vitya settled back above his husband and slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his pyjamas.

“Not too loud,” he cautioned gleefully, before lapsing into silence as he focused his attention on Yuri’s waiting body.

Yuri shivered and lost himself to sensation. The song played sensuously, a rhythm for their love and Yuri moaned loudly.

https://youtu.be/0xuzD7RZgd0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, more Vitya & Yuri because they are squishy and perfect.
> 
> There aren’t really many lyrics to this song so you’re just going to have to trust me & follow the link.
> 
> Diamond Winter & FoxinDocs you guys are the best!


	8. This is love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri tries to process his emotions after the revelations of the previous day.
> 
> Yakov is a reluctant spectator.  
> Victor is gushy and extra.  
> Otabek is... everything.

Yuri felt strange. He hadn’t slept much the night before but he didn’t feel the unpleasant heaviness that a sleepless night usually caused. Instead, he felt light and shivery; disconnected from the world around him. His mind was a jumble of half-finished thoughts, flitting aimlessly from one thing to the next with no real direction. Even the ice failed to hold his attention

“Yura,” Yakov roared from the far side of the rink, “get your head in the game or get off the ice!”

Usually, a lecture from his coach would fill Yuri with a mix of shame and fury; feeding his skates with aggression and powering his movements with reckless energy. Today, he felt a slight buzzing irritation but it didn’t break through the strange blanket of sensation engulfing him. His entire body was drowning in it - he didn’t have a fucking clue what was happening to him. Maybe he was getting sick? He had been out running in the cold with no coat so that made sense.

He floated round the ice a few more times, feet moving without receiving any direction from his brain. After catching sight of Yakov’s violently reddening face he made a weak attempt at a triple axel. The take off lacked any real power and his, usually faultless, poise was nowhere to be seen. Instead of concentrating on his free leg or the position of his raised arm his head was chanting one word, over and over. Beka, Beka, Beka.

To late to abort, he landed clumsily, stumbling and almost falling to the ice. Fuck.

Yakov was beyond livid now. “PLISESTKY! He hollered, face now purple and spittle flying, “What, for the love of Russia, was that?!? Pull you’re head out of your ass and get off my rink before you hurt yourself”.

Yuri grumbled sulkily as he exited the ice. “Calm down old man, you’re going to loose what little hair you have left.”

To his chagrin, Victor was standing just behind Yakov with a smug smirk stretching his disgusting, piggy-kissing, lips across his pale face.

“Don’t be too hard on our Yurochka,” Victor hummed to the older man, “he’s feeling a little flustered today”.

Yuri frowned, eyes twitching with irritation. How did Victor know he felt so odd? He pried into Yuri’s life with an annoying level of dedication, but Yuri had shut down any attempt that the disgusting grey-haired pervert had made to talk to him that morning. He knew that Victor would stop at nothing to find out what was happening between himself and Beka. But, he would have to claw that information out of his cold dead throat because Yuri didn’t fucking kiss and tell. Not that there had been any kissing... yet... but he hoped that would change soon.

Yakov raised an eyebrow and held his hands up as if warding off advancing danger. To be fair, nothing said trouble like the mischievous expression on Victor’s face coupled with the steadily brewing rage on Yuri’s. “I don’t want to know,” he said gruffly. Just deal with it and come to my rink with a clear head tomorrow”.

“But Yaaaakkkkoooovvvv,” Victor whined dramatically, “Our Yurochka is in love!” 

Yakov baulked and backed away hurriedly. “Not this again,” he muttered as he edged away from them.

“What the fuck!?” Yuri screamed at Victor. The soft shell that had been insulting him all morning burning away as the heat of his anger intensified. “Stay the fuck out of my relationship!”

“Awwww,” Victor cooed sickeningly, “you said relationship. So cute Yurochka! Isn’t love wonderful?!”

Yakov groaned, responsibility to his skaters the only thing keeping him from fleeing (which his deepest and most sincere wish). He would keep Vitya alive, and Yuri from becoming a murderer, if it killed him - and at this rate it probably would.

“What did I do to deserve this?” He muttered, but neither of the young men paid any attention.

“You disgusting old slob!” Yuri raged, arms flying dangerously as he closed the gap between himself and Victor. “Don’t talk to me! Beka is none of your god damn business.”

Victor’s smile grew, impossibly, wider. “So protective of your boyfriend Yurochka! Adorable.”

Yuri screamed and spun away. He stalked towards the locker room, body vibrating with annoyance, the sound of Victor’s jubilant laugh ringing in his years. “Baka,” he muttered, putting his favourite Japanese insult to good use. How dare Victor tell people that he loved Otabek! It wasn’t his place. How dare he... how dare he put Yuri’s feeling into words so simply. It wasn’t fucking fair that the idiot had understood the odd feelings overtaking Yuri before he really understood them himself.

Stupid fucking Victor. 

Yuri refused to become an idiotic, sappy pile of uselessness like Victor and Katsu. Their damn, slobbering was disgusting! They were gross and pathetic and that wasn’t freaking happening to Yuri. He was a Plisestky! A lethal fucking skating weapon. 

No, no, no, no, no. Not happening.

But... Beka. Beka was so ridiculously good to look at. Masculine in a way that filled Yuri’s insides with butterflies and made him want to bite something... someone... Beka.

But... they weren’t like Katsu and and old man. No, god damn way! Beka was a total nerd sometimes but he was the single coolest person that Yuri had ever met. Freaking nobody pulled off a badass bike and leather jacket like Beka (and then went home to read about space in a nice, cosy bubble bath, but nobody needed to know about that). 

Yes, they freaking liked... probably, definitely loved... each other, and... maybe they were boyfriends... but that didn’t mean they would suddenly became stupid, sappy idiots that couldn’t even do a triple axel... right?

Yuri groaned and pulled his hood up to hide his blushing face. How did you know if you were boyfriends anyway? Did it just happen or did there have to be some kind of proposal? Was being confessed to in a very public, (and freaking romantic-as-fuck) video, basically a relationship proposal in itself?

Jesus Christ! What was wrong with him? Relationship proposal?!? He sounded like Phichit. 

Lost in his internal rant, Yuri did not spot Katsu loitering outside the changing rooms and slammed straight into him. His head connected with the Japanese man’s cheek bone with a dull thud and a loud, embarrassing squawk escaped his lips. 

“Are you alright Yurochka?” Katsu asked with concern, “You look a little flushed”.

“Ask your stupid, balding husband,” Yuri huffed and pushed past the other man. “I’m going home”.

When Yuri finally reached the sanctuary of his small apartment, he flopped onto the sofa and coaxed his cat into his lap, eager for the comfort of his soft, fluffy princess.

Once sufficiently calm, he launched a quick search for his abandoned phone and, swearing at the cracked screen, plugged it in to charge, willing it back to life.

Eventually, much to Yuri’s relief, it turned back on and automatically opened to the conversation that he had not taken the time to exit the night before. He skimmed through Beka’s apology and increasingly frantic pleas, feeling guilty, until his eyes snagged on the last words that Beka had sent:

Beka  
Yesterday  
21.20  
I love you 

Heat flashed through Yuri’s body, the strange tingly feeling back with full force. Before he could even process what he was doing, his fingers were sliding across the battered screen searching for Beka’s number. The phone was ringing before Yuri had made a conscious decision to call and then, after only two rings, Beka’s deep voice was rumbling through the speaker.

“Yura,” he greeted, economic with words as always but voice unbearably warm.

“You still think that-Baka-Victor and Katsu are disgusting don’t you? Yuri demanded in lieu of a hello, fingers tugging at his hair nervously.

“They are very forward with their affections,” Beka said carefully. 

Why was he always so calm and deliberate?! This was no time for diplomacy.

“You don’t want...” Yuri stuttered haltingly, not sure how to finish the sentence. “You don’t think we’re like them do you?”

Otabek snorted a single loud laugh. “You’re both Russian,” he suggested thoughtfully, “but I don’t think you’re like Victor. He’s the most extra guy in figure skating, well maybe not if you include Georgi”. 

Yuri grinned fiercely and hummed in agreement. 

“Katsuki has more chill,” the Kazakh continued, “but neither of us are that nice Yura, the man’s manners are flawless.”

Yuri felt his shoulders start to relax and snuggled deeper into the couch cushion, Otabek’s steadying voice washing over him pleasantly.

“We’re not going to be mushy and vomit-inducing like them.” Yuri growled, somewhere between a statement and a question.

‘Hmmm,’ Otabek responded slowly, taking his time to find the right words. “I’m not sure Yura, I do want some of those mushy things with you. I’d like to touch you, and kiss you, and be by your side.” 

Yuri forgot how to breathe as he listened, body yearning for the things Beka was offering.

“But,” Beka added with more confidence, “I certainly don’t have any immediate plans to tackle you to the ice in public. I’d prefer to try those things in private when we are alone.”

Yuri’s skin felt so warm that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. His opened and closed his mouth a few times but no words came out. Stupid, sexy Beka turning his brain to mush.

“Are you alright Yura?” Beka asked after a few long moments of silence. “Would those things be okay?” The Kazakh sounded a little nervous and Yuri wanted to slap himself in the face for causing him any uncertainty.

“Yes that’s fine,” he finally forced his mouth to say. “I want those things too. I want... I want you Beka”.

He could almost hear the Kazakh’s smile and wished, desperately, that he could see it.

“Beka, I should go and shower”, he said firmly. “I smell like a demon’s armpit”. Beka chuckled quietly in response and Yuri’s smile grew. This was familiar territory, the banter that had defined their friendship a comfort. He was glad that they could still have this despite the changing landscape of their relationship.

He text Beka almost as soon as they hung up.

The best Yuri  
15.50  
Can we Skype later

Beka  
15.51  
Of course Yura  
I miss your face

Yuri grinned at Beka’s strange and flattering brand of honesty. Walking towards the bathroom, he flicked through his phone looking for a song to suit his mood.

Finding the perfect track he turned the volume as loud as it would go and shimmied in front of the mirror. He didn’t quite recognise the boy staring back in the reflection; there was an unfamiliar, wide and goofy grin where his scowl should be. 

He brought his fingers up to prod at his face but his expression remained unchanged.

Fuck, he thought to himself. This is really freaking happening! 

His smile, impossibly, got even wider. And, as the song invaded his system he let his body roll to the beat, loosing himself in a feeling that was becoming less daunting with every passing second. 

Yuri Plisetsky was happy.

‘This is love, this is love  
That I'm feeling  
This is love, this is love  
That I'm feeling  
This is love, love, love  
That I'm feeling’

https://youtu.be/STxXS5lLunE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PJ Harvey is an actual goddess and I love this song so much! I think it sums up the bubbly, unreal feeling of first love pretty well. (Squeals for Yuri & Beka).


	9. Karma is a bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri seeks revenge against Leo with a little bit of help from a surprisingly devious Beka.

Yuri couldn’t contain the snorting bursts of laughter that erupted, uncontrollably, out of his chest as he contorted his long limbs to stuff himself inside the locker.

He was finally, finally sharing air space with Beka. The Kazakh was competing in the NHK Trophy and Victor and Katsu had surprised Yuri with tickets and flights to go and watch. He wasn’t usually keen on surprises, but he hadn’t even been able to muster the will to pretend to be disgruntled about this one. He’d always jumped at the chance to spend time with Beka, but now that they were together it had become a desperate need. 

Of course, the offer came with its downsides; being nice to Victor the most frustrating, coupled with the fact that the old man and Katsu were chaperoning the trip. He’d not had anywhere near enough alone time with Beka as a result. He knew the Kazakh needed to focus on the competition, but Katsu and Victor wouldn’t freaking leave them alone long enough for Yuri to even think about becoming a serious distraction.

Today, Katsu’s family had joined them, eager to spend time with the couple while they were in Japan, and happy to watch the skating event in order to get the chance. Yuri saw it for the opportunity it provided and snuck away at the first chance he got. He immediately plastered himself to Beka’s side, happily helping him to stretch and watching whilst he practised for the short program the following day.

As much as Yuri loved watching Beka skate, (and he really, really loved watching Beka skate), practise days involved a lot of waiting, especially when you weren’t one of the people competing. Yuri wasn’t the most patient person and sitting still wasn’t something he excelled at. During the mind-numbingly boring stretches of time that Beka wasn’t in his eye-line; commanding Yuri’s attention with the raw power of his movements and painfully handsome face, his gaze wandered restlessly around the room. And, who should catch his attention? None other than Leo-fucking-De la Iglesia.

Yuri let his eyes narrow and his brow draw low, gaze severe. He might be bad at patience, but he was even worse at forgiveness and Iglesia had a lot that he should be sorry for. As he stared, channeling every Russian mafia movie villain he had ever seen, Leo glanced in his direction. Yuri saw his face pale and his body flinch, the distraction causing him to mess up his footwork. Yuri smirked nastily and Leo hastily looked away. Yuri’s smile grew, the day had started to look a whole lot more interesting.

As the day wore on, Leo showed signs of becoming more and more affected by Yuri’s presence. Yuri couldn’t have been happier.

The first time it happened was an accident. Yuri had been prowling round the venue killing time while he waited for Beka to join him for lunch. Having no interest in socialising with anyone but the Kazakh, he had slunk into a shaded corner and come to rest leaning up against the wall. With one knee raised and foot flush against the plaster, headphones and hood pulled low on his head, he was almost motionless in the shadows. When Beka finally text to say that he was free to meet, Yuri had launched himself away from the wall with renewed energy and propelled himself straight into the path of an unsuspecting Leo. The other man jumped and let out a high pitched squeal that could rival any of Victor’s girlish mewls for the most ridiculous sound ever made.

Iglesia’s face had flamed a deep and vivid red at the tittering laughter that had floated around them. Yuri grinned, sharp and dangerous before stalking away in search of the sexy Kazakh. 

The rest of the day provided plenty of opportunity for Yuri to play cat and mouse with his victim. Between ogling Beka’s impressive muscular stature as he pushed himself into impossibly high jumps, sneaking chaste kisses on his water breaks, and more salacious swipes of tongue when nobody was looking, Yuri stalked Leo mercilessly. By the time Otabek was done for the day Yuri had elicited five jump scares, 3 squeals, a spilled drink and one, rather impressive, fit of swearing.

“You’ve been playing with Leo,” Beka had stated, deadpan, as he exited the ice. Yuri had gazed up at his handsome companion from under a jumble of tangled blonde hair. “Are you mad?” He had asked, shoulders tense while he waited for an answer. Beka just smirked back at him and pulled Yuri into a quick but fierce kiss. “Not mad,” he’d drawled as he pulled away. “I just want in”.

Otabek, it turned out, was as ruthless as Yuri and showed impressive levels of dedication to achieving the best scare possible. Yuri would be lying if he said it wasn’t a massive turn on. Beka was freaking despicable and Yuri loved it.

A little bit of plotting, and a whole lot of desire for retribution (as well as an ever increasing desire to get Beka alone) had given rise to their current situation.

Yuri manoeuvred his elbow carefully, squashing himself fully into Leo’s locker. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay in there Yura.” Beka asked, warm hands trailing along Yuri’s side as he supported his efforts to find a comfortable position in the cramped space. Yuri scoffed, “I could stay in here all day,” he snarked. “Russian’s aren’t quitters.” Beka just laughed, a low throaty chuckle and raised his hand to push Yuri’s hair out of his face. The gesture was so gentle, and totally at odds with the idiocy of their current situation, that Yuri couldn’t help but blush and nuzzle into Beka’s touch. “This is going to be the best thing we’ve done all day,” he crowed triumphantly, eager to catch Leo out one final, spectacular time. Beka hummed gently and dragged a single finger, gently but pointedly across Yuri’s lower lip. “I have to disagree there Yura,” he said, lips quirking into an amused smile. Yuri felt his heart stutter at the contact and very seriously considered giving up his quest in order to pin Beka up against the wall and devour him whole - he didn’t have a clue how to do that but he looked forward to finding out.

“Oh shit! I think he’s coming,” Beka whispered suddenly and moved to shove the locker door closed. Yuri snapped himself out of his fantasy as darkness closed in around him and he prepared himself to pounce. 

He remained coiled, biding his time, as he heard Leo greet Beka and drop his stuff down on the bench. He was ready and waiting for the door to swing open, and when it finally did, he leapt. Fingers reaching, and voice curling out of his lips in a vicious growl, he had never felt closer to his ice tiger persona.

Leo didn’t just squeal, he let out a full bodied scream and flung his arms up and over his head in protection. For a few moments, everything fell into a stunned silence, and then the song began to play, chorus cued to the lyrics that would have the greatest impact:

“This is what you'll get  
This is what you'll get  
This is what you'll get  
When you mess with us.”

Yuri hadn’t known that Beka had prepared this final (genius) killing blow, and he almost sunk to the floor from the force of his howling laughter.

Beka offered a steadying hand and turned to smile at Leo mischievously. “I’m sorry Leo,” he offered, face deadpan, “that was at least partially my fault, a 70/30% split don’t you think?”

Leo just gaped, realisation dawning on his face and watched, still unable to talk, as Beka propelled Yuri, still shaking with laughter, away from the locker room.

“You got that on video right?” Yuri asked once he had managed to calm himself enough to talk. “Hell yes,” Beka replied with a smirk, wrapping one strong arm firmly around Yuri’s shoulder and pulling him in delightfully close. “It will be all over social media tonight - I think we’ll freeze frame the shit-scared look on his face at the end.” Beka added gleefully. “But, I think there are more pressing matters to attend to first.” His fingers trailed up under Yuri’s top as he spoke, fingers tracing unbelievably sensual patterns into Yuri’s flushed skin. 

He gasped in both pleasure and surprise, and twined his arm tightly round his partner’s waist. “You’re sexy as fuck when you let your evil side show Altin.” He said a little breathlessly. “Let’s get out of here before Katsu and the old man show up.”

Otabek just smiled, lips curled in a small but sensual smile. “I’m all yours Yura.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/1uYWYWPc9HU - Radiohead, Karma Police.
> 
> Leo is going down! 
> 
> DiamondWinters I hope you approve of revenge.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work that doesn’t  
> Focus on The Raven Cycle so be kind. Ronan & Adam are my OTP but I have a massive soft spot for Otayuri & Victuri


End file.
